Introspections, A UK Songfic
by Oliversgurl
Summary: Britain reflects on his past, while getting progressively more drunk.  Inspired by the song: Viva la Vida.  I hope you enjoy!


This is an introspective songfic. Poor England… he used to be so great.

I own nothing in this fic, the character, song, and history are all not mine and I make no money from this fic.

* * *

_I used to rule the world  
Seas would rise when I gave the word  
Now in the morning I sleep alone  
Sweep the streets that I used to own_

Arthur Kirkland rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand as he swung his feet out of bed for the day. The bed was cold. Had been for years, since the last of his children left him. It was… he blinked at the calendar and sighed. Today was another day of independence. Another day_ celebrating_ another nation's birthday. His people spoke of his sons, and what fine young men they'd grown into, and he went to the cabinet to pull out a bottle of whiskey. Today, he would drown himself. Today, he would forget. Today, he would remember. A pirate, ruler of the oceans and defeater of the Spanish Armada. The oceans _themselves_ seemed to obey his every whim. But that was years ago, and all he could command today was the alcohol in his glass.

_I used to roll the dice  
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes  
Listen as the crowd would sing:  
"Now the old king is dead!  
Long live the king!"_

Years ago he conquered them. He was the greatest Empire in the Western world. India. America. Canada, or most of Canada at least. Australia. And dozens of others he's forgotten over the years. They would fear him, throw down their weapons, and proclaim him as the new King of their lands, and he would treat them with gentleness and raise them. His wards. Children. Brothers. The people adored him. And then they became angry. His bosses ignored him, and he had to go along with their commands.

_One minute I held the key  
Next the walls were closed on me  
And I discovered that my castles stand  
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand_

He admired the amber liquid in his glass, smiling as it burned its way down into his stomach. He was once the most powerful nation in the world, and now he fights to keep a small scrap of land from his brother, Ireland. His expansiveness couldn't have lasted. He knows this now. But it's a bitter pill to swallow; best wash it down with more alcohol.

_I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing  
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing  
Be my mirror my sword and shield  
My missionaries in a foreign field  
For some reason I can't explain  
Once you go there was never, never an honest word  
That was when I ruled the world _

He swills the whiskey like it's water. Remembering when he led the charges of his armies again his foes. Remembers crushing France. Remembers the Crusades and taking back the holy city of his people. Remembers his people making an effort to gently convert natives to their way of thinking before their human brutality got the best of them.

_It was the wicked and wild wind  
Blew down the doors to let me in  
Shattered windows and the sound of drums  
People couldn't believe what I'd become._

No one knew what to make of him. No one realized that he had the potential. The defeat of Spain was just a stepping stone to a greater purpose. He wanted to rule the world. And he did, at one point. He had ruled the known world.

_Revolutionaries wait  
For my head on a silver plate  
Just a puppet on a lonely string  
Oh who would ever want to be king?_

Then the fighting would start again. The revolutionaries, the heroes, the legends… they all wanted him dead. People he raised, countries he started… all wanted him to die. Except… except America, and Canada, and Australia. His bright and shining wards. All grown up and even allied with him. They never wanted to see him crumble. They just wanted to live by their own rules, like any rebellious teen. And he'd tried to crush them.

_I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing  
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing  
Be my mirror my sword and shield  
My missionaries in a foreign field  
For some reason I can't explain  
I know Saint Peter will call my name  
Never an honest word  
But that was when I ruled the world _

The glass hit the table with a thunk, the bottle empty on the floor, and the ice within the glass clinking gently. Arthur sighed and rubbed his numb face. _I hate these days, and one day, I'll just sleep through them._


End file.
